Alban Ashling
Name: Alban Middlename Ashling Occupation: King of Monsea Age: 39 Looks: Blue eyes. Black hair usually kept neat, but in the morning or when sweating during his training, it sticks out everywhere. Personality: He's a goof when it comes to family, but he's usually serious. Very protective of his family, wants the best for them, even if they don't agree with it being the best. Fears: He fears losing his family, especially after his parents died, and his fear only grew worse once Samara died. He fears the Council will destroy and kill everything he loves. Past= Age: 17- Everything Changes (1,561 words) No. Every thought flew out of Alban’s head as he scrambled back from the men in front of him. No. No. They couldn’t- one of them swung, and he was aware of crying out, he was aware that there should be pain where he was hit, but he felt nothing. Nothing but panic. Samara- he had to take Samara. Guards flew out of thin air, tackling and dispatching a few of the men who had attacked him. Taking the distraction, Alban tore himself away from the impending fight and grabbed Samara by the arm. She seemed completely taken by surprised, like she didn’t know what she was seeing. Alban wasn’t too sure either. His sister did not put up much resistance as they belted away from the chaos of the ballroom. They had to get out, they couldn’t get hurt. One of them has to survive, and Alban was going to do everything in his power to make sure that was Samara. He sprinted, his hand never leaving Samara’s, down several halls, making sure each one was safe before running to the next. They couldn’t get caught by surprise, not like their parents. Skies, he hoped they were still alive. Maybe there was still something the doctors could do, even with a sword going straight through their father’s gut…they had to be alive. They couldn’t be gone. Alban skidded around a corner, into the entrance of the maze. The entrance itself wasn’t dusty, so no one would know they came down this way, but the rest of it was. Dusty, musty, and dark, but Samara knew every inch of it. He pulled her in and turned right so they were out of sight, and then put her hands on her shoulders and her back against the wall. “Stay here. Don’t come out for anyone but me, okay? Go deeper and stay out of sight.” “Please stay with me…” She was crying. Skies, no. Alban pulled her into a hug, squeezing as tight as he could. “I’ll be back, I promise. I have to go take care of stuff.” Alban could feel a few tears rush down his face, but he blinked, trying to keep the rest at bay. He had to stay strong for her. “I promise, I’ll come back. I love you.” He was vaguely aware of Samara repeating his words back at him as he broke the hug and ran out of the maze and back towards the chaos. As he got closer towards the ball room, he saw more and more people leaving, practically running out: women, children, older men, people who were unarmed. Their wide eyes and paled faces spoke volumes, they were terrified. Some looked like they were barely holding back their dinner. Alban couldn’t blame them, even if he had to shoulder and jostle his way inside. Inside was worse. Blood coated the floor, and Alban almost slipped in it as he rushed in. Guards were scattered everywhere fighting men and women, and bodies, oh skies, to the left of him a girl his age, Terina Coltstead laid face down in a pool of blood. He had plans to dance with her tonight. Alban didn’t want to look, but he forced himself to look towards where he had been with his parents and sister… They were still there, crumpled on the bloody floor, he couldn’t see a spot without blood on them. He choked and his stomach churned. Those were his parents, they were supposed to get up and take control of this whole situation. Where were the doctors? Why weren’t they attending to their king and queen? Alban jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder and pushed him back, and suddenly Captain Paschalis materialized and steered him away from the bodies. “Alban, Lord Pr-King, what are you doing here, I thought you left.” The man’s sword was out and slicked with blood, he also sported a few cuts. “Why aren’t the doctors here?” A wave of pain rushed through him, and Alban staggered, head spinning. “They’ve been cut off; we’re fighting our way to them.” Oh. “Th-the ones who attacked my parents…” “Relden, Gilstrof, and a few others killed them. We’re going to try to incapacitate to take prisoners. If that’s okay with you.” Alban nodded. “I want doctors attending my parents right away, that the first priority.” Captain Paschalis cringed. “Alban-“ “Do you have another weapon I could borrow?” He needed to join the fight. He couldn’t just stand there. “You’re already injured, Lord King, you’re not going to fight.” “Prince; we don’t know yet.” “Alban, your father got stabbed clean through the gut, your mother across the throat; they’ve lost too much blood if they were still alive. They’re dead. I’m sorry.” The king shook his head. This couldn’t be happening. Alban forgot how to breathe, and for a moment he was incapable of speech. They can’t. Why would someone do this to them? They weren’t bad people. Alban shuddered, wiping his face of the tears that were slipping away. Strong. He was strong. “I-I want them all dead. Leave five for questioning, kill the rest.” Captain Paschalis bowed. “As you wish, Lord King. Perhaps you should go find a place to hide. Both gates have been reported safe…where’s your sister?” “She’s safe. I-I’m not hiding.” Alban could feel his pulse quicken, blood was pounding through his ears. “I’m-I’m going to help the people…” “I think you need to get that wound checked…” “I’m helping people.” And without another word, Alban pushed away and went towards the doors…he needed another safe place for them. Where was safe? There had to be another place. After thinking for a moment, he remembered what Paschalis had told him: everyone had to go to the gates. “Gates.” He told the nearest person, Lord Nealon. The man was helping up a boy around Sam’s age. “Go to the gates. Spread the word.” Lord Nealon did not go to the gates, instead he surged towards Alban. Instinctively, the boy stepped backwards, right into the arms of a man with a sword. The sword was suddenly at his throat, and Alban couldn’t do anything but freeze, and think of his sister. He promised. Yet the sword clattered to the ground, and a thump of the man’s body followed a second later. Slowly, he turned to face the man. He had a knife buried in his throat. “Th-thank you.” Alban’s voice was hoarse, as he looked back at Lord Nealon. “Take his sword. I’ll spread the word.” Was the only words Nealon spoke, though he did look considerably paler when he ran to get to the head of the pack. Alban did as Lord Nealon said, grabbing the sword that had been at his throat. It weighed almost as much as Sam, but it was better than nothing. Slowly--he couldn’t walk fast with that monster in his hand-- he went around the edge of the ball room, offering words of encouragement and instructions to get to the gates. Alban even jumped into the fray a few times to get to injured people that needed help. Eventually Captain Paschalis found him helping a five-year-old find her parents. Alban’s vision was getting a little fuzzier, he wasn’t sure why though. “We’ve taken 10 prisoners, Lord King.” Paschalis reported. “The rest are injured or dead, and the doctors are attending to our people and your parents. I have guards making a sweep of the castle to make sure none are trying to hide or escape.” “I need…” Alban thought for a moment, swaying. “I need Sam. Get names of our injured and dead, the people are scared…and put Lord Nealon in charge of, uh, people finding each other…” He closed his eyes, trying to figure out how to speak again. He was going to have to make a speech. “Alban, you need a doctor, let me take you-“ “No! I need Sam…” Alban muttered a few more words, unsure exactly of what he was saying, but that didn’t matter. He promised Sam. He left her in the dark, he had to get her out. “Oth-other people have worse injuries.” Alban found himself in a hallway close to the maze, he must have walked although he couldn’t exactly remember the walk there. His vision swam and black dots danced around, but he kept walking. The new king found himself surrounded by guards, but he wasn’t necessarily mad about that. “Sam!” Alban called, now nearing the maze entrance. “Sam, it’s safe! Please come out.” He went inside, the guards nearly choking him with their bodies as he stumbled into a wall. He didn’t care though, not when he saw her beautifully living, scared face pop out from behind the wall. Alban nearly sobbed. “Alban!” Sam cried in relief or worry, he couldn't tell, as she ran out from behind the wall. Alban surged towards her, dropping the sword and wrapping her in a hug. She smelled like flowers and dust. “You’re safe. I’m back.” He said into her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t say anything while in the hug, not until Alban’s knees buckled. Finally, the pain in his side washed over him, and he cried out, closing his eyes. Immediately, guards rushed towards them, and Alban was fighting to stay awake, to stay above the pain. He couldn’t bother to be sure of where he was anymore. Where he was. As long as he had Samara with him. He didn’t want to be alone. First Interrogation “As you know, Lord King, you are down two advisers.” Langdon Pell, his second adviser spoke. Alban sat at his father’s – now his—desk, examining a pile of paperwork he had lost interest in a while ago. "While Garrick and I would be able to do the work of four, it would be very stressful for all of us, so we composed a list of people who will be fit for the job.” “Thank you.” Alban said, not lifting his head up. “Place it on the table. I’ll start interviews later.” “Lord King, you have other pressing concerns to take care of. Garrick and I were going to interview for you.” “That’s why the interviews will be later. I’ll take care of this stuff first, but I’m interviewing my potential advisers.” “As you wish, but may I remind you that you’re still very young, and the interviewees might not take you seriously.” “Then they won’t get the job.” Alban said simply, finally looking up to see Langdon, eyebrows creased and frowning concernedly in his direction. “Are the scum ready for interrogation yet?” “Captain Paschalis will retrieve them when you go down to a room.” “Then let’s go.” Alban stood and stretched before hurrying towards the door. Langdon fell in step behind him, and four guards, courteous of Captain Paschalis, followed in their wake. The young king wanted to do this while Samara was with Merina; she didn’t need to see the people who killed their parents and friends. They could end up saying horrible threats to her, and that was the last thing she needed. Minutes later Alban was sitting inside an interrogation room with Langdon and two of the guards due to the room being so small. Captain Paschalis brought in a man who had obviously been in the cells for a couple of weeks; his long, thin hair was greasy, dirt unevenly caked on his dark skin, and he squinted at the bright lamp lights. Finally, the man was chained to the chair opposite of Alban with a table between them, and Captain Paschalis bowed. “We caught this one heading to your family’s hallway the night of the massacre.” Alban nodded, sizing the man up. “What were you doing there?” “Lookin’ for a girl. Is that a crime now, kid?” “He’s your king.” Captain Paschalis warned the man. “I ain’t Monsean.” “Regardless,” Alban interjected, he needed to keep everyone on track, “of where you’re from, you have been convicted of planning and participating in the massacre, which resulted in the deaths of the King Edvin and Queen Mira. That’s murder and treason. Do you deny these?” Alban struggled to keep himself from showing any emotion, but he was not sure how well he did as the man smirked. “If I had done it, I wouldn’t ‘a missed you ‘n your sister.” The images of Samara on the ground next to his parents while bleeding out just as fast as them crossed his mind, and he couldn’t help but shut his eyes to try to make it go away. Skies…he just wanted to kill this man and get it over with. “We know you didn’t kill anyone.” Alban said, clearing his throat. “Your sword was clean and you didn’t have a scratch when they found you.” He only knew this due to the notes on the table in front of him. Captain Paschalis had written about each person they had caught in order they were to be interviewed. “If you help us, we can help you. Give us information about how this was pulled off and you could walk free.” “’cept I wouldn’t, I’m not a dumb kid like you.” He leaned back. “You’ll have people watching me the minute I leave this place ‘free’. And besides, the Council doesn’t take back traitors.” The Council… they had released a statement that they tried to stop the massacre before it happened, but Alban had never heard anything of the sort. To have confirming evidence that this was they’re doing, when they were supposedly helpful, this was major. “And what if I give you my word that you could go free without any eyes on you?” “Still not good enough. The Council’ll take me out.” Alban leaned forward in his seat, placing his hands on his knees. “Then what do you want?” “I want you and your sister in the same place as your parents.” Captain Paschalis had told him what to expect from interrogations, but he didn’t expect the deep rage that forced Alban’s hands to curl into fists, not the urge to kill them man right now. Slowly, he nearly growled. “Pick something more reasonable. Take him away. Solitary. I want him to think over his options. Bring in someone else.” “Yes, Lord King.” Paschalis did as he was told taking the prisoner out of the room. As soon as they were gone, Alban sighed and rubbed at his eyes to hide the tears prickling at the edge of his eyes. “Alban, do you really plan on letting him go? That’s not a good idea…” Langdon tried to convince Alban, but he just shook his head. "Of course not. I said ‘could’ which means possibly. And if I did let him go, he’d get about two seconds worth of freedom before I have Paschalis kill him.” “That’s cruel, Lord King.” “Killing my parents and a fourth of my court was cruel.” Alban answered, cracking his back. “I have no sympathy for traitors.” “I understand.” Alban asked Langdon to bring him some water, since there were no courier present and the guards were to stay with him lest Captain Paschalis have a heart attack. “Lord King?” one of the guards… Sten, Alban believed his name was, asked hesitantly. “Yes?” “I know it’s not my place, sir, but, uh, they might be more willing to talk if they have some physical persuasion.” “You mean torture.” Alban stated, glancing curiously at the guard. He looked nervous. “Yessir. I-I’ve guarded during interrogations before, they talk the most when physical threats are carried out.” While Alban had never actually attended an interrogation before, he knew about several methods, but did not know that his mother and father actually tortured. Well, what could be the harm this time? They were all already guilty of their crimes. “Your name is Sten?” “Yessir.” Sten eyed the floor. “Thank you for the suggestion, Sten. Should I be the one to carry out the threats?” Sten blinked, a small grin tugging at his face as he made eye contact with Alban. “No, sir. It should be one of us or Captain Paschalis who carries it out. We don’t want them to be able to touch you, and uh it’ll show your control.” The last part was added quickly, as if that was the real reason why he wanted to keep Alban on this side of the table. Alban nodded, resolved to use torture with the next man Captain Paschalis brought in if conversing did not work. He needed more information, and his gut said he wouldn’t get it by being nice. Perhaps he should ask Sten more about what happened in other interrogation sessions he guarded in, he seemed to be willing to discuss successful methods. There was still much to learn before he could be the king he wants to be; Alban just hoped it would become easier. Age: 21- Alban and Kassia's First Kiss (962 words) Alban laid the picnic blanket out on the ground, smoothing it out before placing the basket in the middle of it. He wanted the picnic to be perfect. He had spent the better half of the day before planning it, making sure there would be no disruptions from his advisors or training exercises. They took horses a small distance away from the castle, where an old wall used to be before the castle was renovated about a hundred years ago. Alban thought the area was pretty, and gave them something to talk about should the conversation lull. He helped Kassia down from her horse although he was aware she has spent more time than he ever would getting on and off horses. She thanked him kindly, and he led her over to the picnic. Kassia sat down, her back against one of the crumbling blocks still standing. Vines had imprinted onto the blocks. She looked beautiful against it. He sat down next to her and handed her a sandwich. “Have you enjoyed the castle so far?” “It’s been nice.” Kassia replied, biting into one of the sandwiches packed. She waited until she was done chewing before continuing. “I’ve been exploring a lot. Are you aware you’ve got a maze in your castle?” Alban chuckled at that, feigning surprise. “There is? Wow! Did you go in it?” “I did. Took me two hours to figure out how to get back. Why is there a maze in there?” Alban thought for a moment. “About 200 years ago, Monsea had a really messed up king. I forget why he built the maze, but at the center was his bedroom. We’ve got maps of it, I can take you through it sometime, if you want.” Never mind he could barely navigate it himself, Alban just wanted to spend time with Kassia. She had the prettiest green eyes, and could hold a conversation when Alban couldn’t figure out how to continue. “I’d like that. You won’t get us stuck in there for two hours?” “Well…not if I have a map.” He started in on his sandwich, grinning at her. So far, so good. Kassia didn’t look like she wanted to leave. She seemed be enjoying his company. “If I knew there was a map I might not have gotten stuck. Let’s see if you can do it without one.” She challenged. “We might be stuck for three hours then.” “That won’t be a problem.” Kassia told him quicker than he expected her to, and Alban couldn’t help the blood rushing to his cheeks. Being alone with Kassia in the dark for three hours…stop. He was a gentleman; they haven’t even kissed yet, and he was thinking these things. How could she sit here with him? “No?” Keep the subject on track. “No. You are fun to talk to.” “I am?” Alban’s surprise was genuine. Sitting up straighter, he felt very satisfied with himself. He was fun to talk to. Someone other than himself had said it. “Yeah, you say the funniest things sometimes, and don’t even mean it.” Was she getting closer to him? “Plus, you get the most dorky smile on your face when you look at me.” “Dorky? I thought it was charming.” “Oh, it is. But it’s charming in a dorky way.” She was getting closer to him. Alban could see that now. Maybe Kassia was trying to get him to kiss her… he wanted to, but what if he was wrong? That would be utterly embarrassing. “That’s a relief, at least my dorkiness is helping me in some way.” “It definitely is.” Oh shit, now it was his turn to say something, but Alban could barely think. They were so close to each other, he could smell the perfume she used and see the specks of brown in her green eyes, but what captivated Alban the most, the one thing he really wanted is what he chose to compliment her on “You have the most beautiful lips I’ve ever seen,” and he never felt more stupid than that moment. Lips? Really? It was safe to say both their cheeks colored as Kassia leaned in and only hesitated a moment before she slowly, even gently, met his lips with hers. His eyes closed, and all Alban could think about was her. Her and her warm, moist lips. The way she seemed to want to grab him, but held herself back just as much as Alban was. Strands of her hair, still wet from her morning bath, clinging to his forehead. He didn’t want it to end, but way too quickly she pulled back and Alban opened his eyes. Her cheeks were bright, but a smile danced across her face. She was easily the most beautiful person Alban had ever seen. “Did they feel as good as they look?” she asked. Before he could figure out how to speak again, she was chuckling and ducking her head back towards the picnic. “Sorry, that was the oddest thing I’ve ever said.” “No, it was…great.” He needed to pull himself together. Alban could still feel the ghost of her lips on his. “You’re great at it.” “Thanks, you’re not too bad yourself.” She licked her lips, and Alban would’ve sold his soul to know what she was thinking. “I-I’m willing to stay the rest of the month. I think we’ve got something going here. I’d like to explore it.” “I think this could work.” Reaching for the hand she had pressed against the ground, Alban pulled it to his lips and planted a soft kiss, keeping steady eye contact with Kassia, even as he entwined his fingers with hers. “Me too.” Kassia leaned against Alban, and he wrapped his arm around her to hold her other hand and grinned. This- this could definitely work. The Maze A few days had gone by after their picnic before he could schedule enough time to go explore the maze with Kassia. He had studied maps of the expanse during that time and Alban was determined to go through without any aid. They had managed to walk for an hour before he lost his way on the mental map. “Oh no…” Alban frowned, peering down the either side of the intersections. They could make a right or left, but Alban had no idea which was correct. “What?” “I forgot which way we’re supposed to turn.” He turned red, looking back and forth down each passage, trying to figure it out. Skies, this was more embarrassing than forgetting lines of a speech and having to improvise. Kassia even laughed at him, moving the lantern they had left and right. “I think we should go right.” “Why is that?” “It’s my strategic way to navigate new places.” “Didn’t seem to work too well for you last time, did it?” “Shut up, we’ve taken a couple left turns, maybe we’ll have more luck.” Well, he couldn’t argue with that. Hesitantly, Alban took Kassia’s hand for the first time alone and followed the right passage, turning right every time the situation called for it. She didn’t let go, much to Alban’s relief. “So you’ve lived here your whole life and you never bothered to learn the maze?” she asked, a hint of a smile on her face. “No, I left that to my sister. I had more important things to do, like learning how to impress my future wife.” “…You could use a few more lessons.” Though Kassia wore a grin, Alban still blushed, his line did not go the way he expected it to… he’d make the most of it either way. “So could you.” “Good thing I’m going to marry a man then, isn’t it? I don’t have to impress a woman.” Alban laughed. She had a very good point despite the teasing. They continued trading joking remarks while turning right every chance they got, and near the end of their journey they made one left turn with insistence from Kassia that she felt like it was the correct direction in her gut. A door laden with gold décor stood where Alban had expected another passage. Kassia laughed, and he couldn’t help but follow in suit before he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. Kassia’s trick had worked; Alban hadn’t actually expected to find the end of the maze after they had gotten lost. Still, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed back just as fervently. Almost melting, Alban decided he loved the way Kassia's kisses felt. It was very different from their first kiss a few days ago. That had been more hesitant, testing… this time, passion flowed as they kissed, both of their hands exploring the other’s body. He loved it. He wanted more, and was pretty sure Kassia felt the same way as she was running her hands underneath his shirt. “I-“Alban broke from Kassia for a moment, though never letting go. “I think there’s a bed in there.” he told her, hoping she wouldn't back away from his invitation. “Let’s go then.” He smiled and opened the door. Asking Merina Alban took a swig of water as he gathered up his notes for the wedding. There was so much to talk about with Kassia, his advisors, and her mother. Her mother, skies, she was intimidating. Queen Dana, though she had approved of the marriage, seemed to dislike him. She seemed to dislike everyone, so maybe it wasn’t personal. She had her lips permanently creased into a line. She constantly had changes to make in the wedding planning, and he was forced to go along with them because they were usually decent changes. “Alban.” Dana called, staying after as the rest left. “I have to talk to you about the mother/son dance.” “The mother-son…sure. What about it?” She did that thing where she hardened her mouth into a line. “You don’t want to dance with me, do you?” “No, no. I want to. Where’d you get that idea from?” “I’m not stupid, Alban, I haven’t been there for you and Sam as much as I know others in this castle have been. If you have someone else, I’m not going to offended if you dance with them.” That means he could actually ask Merina, thank the skies. He’d held off for now because he had been under the impression of dancing with Queen Dana, but now he could ask anyone, and if anyone deserved to be asked, it was Merina. “Thank you, Queen Dana. I’ve definitely got someone in mind.” “I hope it goes well for you.” “Thank you.” Alban smiled at her, and she seemed to allow herself a small one as well. “I do expect we dance at some point that night.” “Of course, I would love to dance with you.” ---- “Merina, can we talk?” Alban asked. He had decided to wait until dinner time, since he had invited Merina to eat with them. She nodded, so he stood and motioned her to come into the living room. “Is everything okay, Alban?” “Yeah, everything’s great.” He smiled. “I just have a question…” She looked at him curiously, but smiled back. “What do you need?” “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me for the mother/son dance?” “Alban.” She said, shocked. “Of-of course. But I thought you’d be dancing with the queen.” Merina seemed like she couldn’t decide whether to stand or sit. “We talked about it, and she agreed that I should ask someone I actually consider another mother. I’ve known you since I was little, and you’ve really been there for both me and Sam. You’ll do it?” he walked closer to her, hoping he’d hear her say yes. “I’d be honored to.” Her eyes were glistening, though she wasn’t crying. Alban took that as good sign, and he grinned, now knowing she felt the same way about the dance and their relationship as he did. Wrapping Merina in a hug, he was happy to feel her arms wrap around him as well. Suddenly, Alban couldn’t wait for this dance. Hide and Seek "Twenty-eight, twenty-nine...thirty! Ready or not, here I come!" Alban said loudly, waiting one moment longer before letting his hands drop to his sides as he scanned the room. Rylin and Nolan managed to convince both Kassia and him to play hide-and-seek. They had clung onto their shirts and begged. Although Alban had work, he still wanted to spend time with them. So he searched. Right away he could see Nolan's feet sticking out from under the curtain, but since he was only three-years-old Alban decided to give the boy some slack. He passed his son a couple of times, calling out his name. "Noooolan. Nolan, where are you?" Alban could hear the delightful yet muffled giggling of the boy. Shaking his head with an amused grin, he walked away from him, intent on finding one of the girls first before he went back to get Nolan. Passing his and Kassia's room, he paused. There were a multitude of hiding places there. Grinning, he looked in the most obvious place – under the bed—expecting to see Rylin hiding there. Instead he found Kassia, though he had no idea how she managed to wriggle her way under there. "Got'cha." She groaned. "Am I the first one?" "Yeah." "Skies, it took me forever to get under here..."she wiggled, trying to go backwards. "Come pull my legs." He laughed, but went around the bed and did as she said. A couple moments later, Kassia was free from the confines of the bed, brushing off dust bunnies. "I think Ry and Nolan are hiding near the front." "I know where Nolan is, you're going to have to pretend he's not there for me." Crossing her arms, Kassia raised an eyebrow and frowned. "That's cheating." "But it's so adorable, Kass, you'll see." He lead her out to find Rylin. She wasn't in the dining room, nor the parlor, where he had counted. While Kassia smiled at Nolan's 'hidden' form, Alban thought. Rylin was small, so maybe the cabinets would be a good idea to look in. Once he learned they were all empty, he again scanned the room, moving from the small kitchen back to the parlor, when he bumped into a trashcan. Alban knew for a fact that the trashcan had been emptied, he watched a servant take the replace it, so he was confused only for a moment when the trashcan didn't sway and emitted a heavy breath. He froze before slowly moving back in front of the trash can, slowly inching the lid up, only to have it yank back down on the can itself. "Kassia, did you know our trash can moves?" "What?" Kassia asked incredulously, though it was for show. She had a grin on her face. "Yeah, I lifted the lid and then it slammed shut. Weird, huh?" There was a giggle. Within a second, Alban lifted the lid up to see Rylin, one hand in the air and another covering hermouth. "I found you!" Reaching in, he lifted her out of the garbage can and into his arms. "I've been looking everywhere for you." "I'm right here, daddy!" He kissed the top of her forehead. "You hid really well." She beamed at him, and he set her down before taking slow steps over to the curtain, where Nolan's feet still haphazardly stuck out. "Nolaaaaaan... come out come out where ever you areeee." Alban paced for a second, stopped right in front of his boy, and poked his stomach. "Ahhhh!" Nolan screamed, jumping and rushing out from behind the curtain. Alban swooped him up into a hug, giving the boy a raspberry on his stomach, immediately sending Nolan from near tears, to uproarious laughter. "You won! You won Nolan!" Alban swung him up onto his shoulders and paraded aound the parlor, Rylin following behind them, wanting to be picked up until Kassia took that honor. Nolan continued to laughing, even when Kassia counted all the way to thirty. Parenting "Father, I don't want to get married. I'm not ready." Alban froze. He had heard this before, from Sam, and he had pushed. She died because he drove her away with all the marriage talk. “Rylin, you are one of the most mature seventeen-year-olds I ever met, but if you don’t want to get married in the next few years, then that’s your decision and I’ll support you.” He tried for a smile, but Alban had no doubt Rylin could tell it was fake. “Besides, you don’t need to get married yet. I’m still alive, and I’m going to be around for a long time.” His little girl smiled. “Thank you, Father.” “You know you can call me dad when we’re not around people…” “I know. It’s just…I got used to it.” “Okay. I understand, sweetie. Good night.” “Good night, dad.” Giving her a hug, Alban couldn’t hide the small, genuine smile that lit up his face. Then he left the room, and the smile faded. How was he going to go about this with Rylin? He can’t- he won’t make the same mistakes. |-| Present= Not Available |-| Future= Not Available |-| AU/Other= Untitled: It was her eyes he noticed first, lopsided with one purple and one distinctive blue. Though it had been five years, he could still remember that exact color blue of his sister’s eyes with perfect clarity. And now that color was mirrored in the eye of the young girl before him. As he stared, it became more and more apparent how close she looked to his sister, from the shape of her face down to the exact same color of hair and only the slightest bit curly. It couldn’t have been possible… but there the girl stood, very much real, tears forming in her strange, yet familiar, eyes. All of it – all of her a stark, haunting reminder of his sister, standing and crying just the same. Rowan+Samara die - AU (version 1) Response: Grief Makes The Blood Run Cold Everything was wrong. The wooden chair Alban sat in was wrong. Uncomfortable. But he couldn’t get up, couldn’t leave this gray, horrible meeting room him, Kassia, and the Captain, and his advisors had congregated in an hour ago. It was empty now, as everyone went on their own errands in figuring out this tragedy and bringing his sister to justice. Alban couldn’t. Didn’t. Grief kept him rooted in the spot. The giant, oak table was too formal, unrelenting. It didn’t give any mercy. Alban wasn’t given mercy and he was all alone. Suddenly he was seventeen again, doing everything he can to save Samara. But she was already dead. There was no saving her. She was lying up there, on the raised platform of the thrones, blood spooling and mixing with their parents. The door creaked open. Alban managed to look up to see Merina. It wasn’t the first time he had seen her tonight. Kassia had taken charge of the investigation, and had brought Merina by to find Taja, and explain. Alban could barely listen to the explanation, but he understands enough of what happened. He had been betrayed. By everyone. “No,” Alban said at Merina’s approach. “I don’t want to talk to you. There’s nothing you can say.” “Alban-“ “Stop, Merina.” Alban shook his head, unable to stop the tears that slid down his face. And the worst part was that even though he didn’t want to want Merina’s support, he needed it. “You, of all people- I-I never expected… you were a mother figure to me.” “Alban,” Merina started, but whatever thought she had, she kept from him. Again. “You danced with me at my wedding.” “I know.” “You let Samara be with a council member without informing anyone, and you helped keep her secret and her child. Merina, I have a nine-year-old niece I just met today because my sister, the one other family member who survived the massacre, died.” He sniffed and wiped his cheeks. “She said she was going to tell you.” “She didn’t.” The words rang in his ears, and he sincerely doubted she was ever going to admit this. She was his best friend, he told her everything, and she lied the whole time. His sister didn’t trust him. Didn’t love him. “Taja’s a nice girl…” “I know. I’ve talked to her already. I don’t know how I’m going to break the news to her. I thought I’d let you do it since you actually know her, but you’ve known me practically my whole life and still kept secrets from me, so.” For the first time in their entire relationship, the silence was uncomfortable. Until Merina broke it, “What are you planning to do with her?” Alban shrugged almost helplessly. He didn’t know, there was suddenly waves of things he wasn’t sure about. He hadn’t even thought about what to do with Taja. She was a bit younger than Nolan, maybe they would frien- cousins. They would get along and be close cousins. “Take care of her. She’s my family. That’s what family does. Care. Support. Talk.” “Okay.” “I can’t fire you.” Alban stated, his mind had been going in a million different directions since he received the news and saw himself to confirm, though with Merina here, his mind was a little clearer in this aspect. “I-I wanted to, but even though you’ve lied to me, I can’t do that to you and your son. You can attend Taja if you want, do whatever. I just don’t want to see you.” “What about the funeral?” “I’m not a monster.” Not like everyone thought he was. Not like Samara must have considered him. Alban had never caught on. Even now, he couldn’t figure out what he did wrong, what made Samara distrust him enough. All he ever wanted to do was keep her safe. It was the one promise he thought he would always keep. But she hadn’t trusted him. “I’m sorry, Alban.” Merina said. Her voice wavered for only a second before turned around, and walked out of the meeting room and gently shutting the door behind her. He had never been so alone. |-| Category:Charrie Category:Characters Category:Graceling RP